Ten Down
by Bearbutt
Summary: Waffles, crosswords, and a game of tag. Mentions of Cass/Tim, Tim/Steph, Steph/Cass and all combos of them as an OT3.


_I'm a little nervous about posting this because it's the first time I've written Cass or Steph. Hopefully I've done them both justice. This takes place after the end of Steph's run on Batgirl and Gates of Gotham. I'm playing a little fast and loose with continuity here because it's been a while since I read Gates. She may have been in England doing her bit for Batman Inc at that point. _

_Recommended listening: Untouchable Face by Ani Difranco and Overkill by Men at Work_

_Reviews are appreciated._

_-B_

* * *

Stephanie Brown isn't sure where she's going that morning. It's too late to patrol and too early to go to school. Sleep evades her more now than it did during her brief stint in Africa.

_/Cold surgical steel heated by her spilling blood, a skeletal smile./_

However, that's not the usual bullshit that's keeping her up. No, it's more like a restlessness. She's been benched from Batgirl-ing since the Black Mercy poisoning two weeks ago. Her mom suggests she get a 'real job'. What the fuck is she going to do with her experience.

She'd kind of like to put her costumes on her resume just to see what kind of bites she'd get.

_"Well, Miss Brown, your previous work as Robin would make you great at selling mattresses. Now, could you just put the Robin suit on? Also, you haven't put a contact number for your reference of 'Batman'."_

A few thuggish-looking fellows eye her in her purple pj-pants and GU hoodie. One's face is lit up by the cherry of his cigarrette. She can see indecision there. They don't see any money to roll her for, but a girl always has something of value to strange men.

Stephanie raises her jaw defiantly, he seems as if he'll approach her, but his phone rings.

She kind of wishes it hadn't. Breaking a face would do her some good. Instead she enters a shitty diner to order some waffles. She grabs a copy of the gazette and takes a moment to decide between bar and booth. She chooses the booth, taking up space to prove she's there.

The coffee has the consistency of water and the taste of motor oil, she's not sure if that or the reverse is better. However, the coffee and the company are more bitter than her, so there's that. A chuckle makes her spill coffee as she sees a paparazzi-style picture of Bruce on the cover. He's got a collapsed supermodel in a fireman's carry and is trying not to look annoyed by it. The caption reads, "**Playboy Partying Too Hard?**".

Please, the Amish party harder than Bruce.

She has never met the Amish, unless you count Witch-people, who are like... blue Amish. Is Amish still even a thing? Mormons have surpassed them in weird religious people who live in communes.

What would an Amish Batman look like?

The exhausted-looking waitress brings her a heavy-laden plate with blueberries and syrup.

"Thanks, Hon." Stephanie says distractedly.

That gets a weak smile. There's a win.

Shuffling through the pages of weather and stocks she finds the crossword. Her dad used to do these obsessively, and would reward her if she managed to complete it correctly.

A useless skill, but Steph is proud of her cross-fu.

Ten down. Spiritless, without energy. Uses an 'L'.

"Comrade" A voice tells her.

Stephanie's 'Batty-senses' have clearly been dulled by sleeplessness and carb coma. She eyes the person sitting across from her.

"I thought that Hong Kong was a capitalist island, yet, here you come back speaking like a Commie."

"43 Across, friend or ally. Ass." Cass smiles.

Steph breaks into her own toothy grin as she reaches across the table for a hug. Creepily, she knows, she takes a deep inhale of Cassandra's scent. Kevlar and leather with a hint of something new. Fruity. Cass used to use generic shampoo and soap for cleaning, but apparently she's switched brands.

"It's kiwi and cucumber before you ask." She says.

"You know me too well."

"I know everyone too well."

The girls lean back and just take a moment to look at each other. It's been almost a year. Stephanie's hair is a little shorter, Cassandra's is a lot longer.

"What brings you back to town?" Steph asks.

"The architecture." It's a simple truth.

"Heard little bits and pieces about that, some nut flipping his shit over bridges. Why wasn't I invited to that party?"

"You were in a drug-induced coma."

"I swear, Bruce waits until I'm out of comission then he takes everyone for ice creams or something equally fun."

Cassandra laughs at that.

"I missed your stupid talking."

"I missed your stupid face."

"I had sex with Tim."

Steph sprays coffee all over her waffles. All sense of dignity forgotten she shouts,

"What?!"

"I had sex with Tim."

"Have I stepped into some kind of weird alternate universe where Tim isn't forever-a-virgin? Also, a universe where you two aren't adopted siblings and therefore finding that a little creepy?"

Cass just takes a long drink of her tea. Stephanie drums her fingers on the table in anticipation. She feels jealousy, not her own, weirdly enough. Just an air of envy radiating over the diner and streets in waves. Almost like Gotham wanted Tim's virginity for itself. Ever the nervous talker, she starts yammering.

"Like, should I be worried? What if Tim's virginity was what kept him a great detective. Tesla always said his celebacy was the key to his genius. Weird geniuses have weird sex lives. I mean, Da Vinci was into teenage boys. I don't blame him, but yeah, a little creepy. Tim though? He's so tightly wound that I've been taping 'Caution: Under Pressure' to his pants for years. I've always thought that maybe one day he'll just explode. What if this is worse though? What if his downfall is more like a balloon farting its air away."

Cass stopped drinking a while ago and is just watching Stephanie ramble. She wears a fond smile as she perches her face on her palm.

"When was the last time someone touched you naked?" She interjects.

Stephanie flushes and looks to the side. Too long.

"What the hell. You two used to be Kid Virgin One and Kid Virgin Two. I was the slutty power ranger! Has running like... five teams and an army caused B-Man to stop locking your matching chastity belts or something?"

"No, we just managed to hack our way out of them. He was alright, by the way. Shy, of course, but sweet. Definitely awkward, but after the second time he found his rhythm."

Steph both wants and doesn't want to hear the details of her two best friends/exes sleeping with each other. Asking for details will probably sound like a proposition for a three-way-which, let's face it, she's wanting for about four years.

"You rocked his world, I take it?"

"He was dead to the world for at least ten hours afterward."

"Nice."

"I met my little brother..."

"Damian? Yeah, he's a little shit, but an alright kid. If only we could just find him a better dad than Bruce."

Cassandra bristles at the comment.

"Sorry, more emotionally open dad than Bruce. I'm sure he's a great papa to people who don't use words."

Her aura is still a little senticious, but calmer. The tea helps.

"How are you feeling?" Cass asks her.

"Bored. Irritable. Like I need to punch someone."

"I meant physically, but you're more of a words-first person."

"Well, physically I'm fine-"

"I'll say."

"Shush you. But I have too much energy. I'm bored and listless. Holy shit, ten down."

Stephanie scribbles the word down into her puzzle and does a little victory fist pump.

"So, bored carb girl. You up for some exercise?"

The blonde pouts as her eyes dart between Cass, her soggy waffles, and the crossword. She leaves a few bills on the table and slides out of the booth.

With a whoosh of black, Cassandra vaults over the booth and smacks her in the back of the head.

"Tag!"

The bell at the door barely jingles as the other girl disappears into the early morning light.


End file.
